Shut Up, Hawkeye
by Katie-Mariie
Summary: A short slash fic Katie, write a short slash fanfic, surely you jest. Hawkeye is stunned. CHAPTER 5 ADDED
1. Scared Speechless

Title: Shut Up, Hawkeye  
  
Author: Katie Mariie  
  
Archive: Sure, but send me a note.  
  
Summary: How to make Hawkeye be quiet.  
  
A/N: This is set back in the good ol' first season meaning that Trapper, Henry, Radar, and Frank are still there. Like you didn't know that. This is very short. I don't know if I'm going to make a sequel or not.  
  
  
  
For the first time in Hawkeye Pierce's life, he was speechless.   
  
If you knew him you would know that it was no easy task to rob Hawkeye of words and whatever could, would kill any other person.   
  
Hawkeye could stand in a room filled with dying children and still have the tongue- and the stomach- to criticize a particularly sloppy fellow surgeon. He could pronounce an infant dead and then complain about it. Not that Hawk was some cold monster- if anything he was the opposite... whatever that was- he just had a wit that wouldn't quit and a sass that wouldn't pass.  
  
Until now.   
  
  
  
Hawkeye stood at the door, staring at a cot that was made to hold one of his tentmates but instead held two. 


	2. Prelude

Title: Shut Up, Hawkeye 2/?  
  
A/N: Tjis kind of a prelude to the first chapter. It explains what happened.   
  
Roars of laughter filled the mess tent. Trapper John and Hawkeye Pierce played to good audience tonight.   
  
"You... you... degenerates!" Frank said, coffe and iodine dripping from his brow. He stormed out of the mess.   
  
"Don't worry, Francis, it'll come out in the wash!" Hawkeye called.  
  
The two pranksters looked at each other. "We are good."  
  
"Yes, we are," Hawkeye replied.  
  
( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( )  
  
Trapper walked down the dirt roads of the four-o-double-natural, towards the Swamp. It was quiet in the compound; everyone was at the post-prank party in the Officer's Club. Everyone except Frank and Hot Lips, that was. Margaret was in Post-Op and Frank was probably off reading the Army Rule Book somewhere.   
  
Out of the silence, Trap heard a noice-- yes, a whimper. In curiousity, he ducked his head into a position where he could see the whimperor. John gasped. It was Frank.   
  
The captain knew that Frank was capable of showing human traits: greed, anger stupidity, but sadness? Sadness was way too human for a ferret.   
  
"Frank?" he called.  
  
"McIntre!" Frank stood up from his squatting position and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Shouldn't you be off swilling gin somwhere?"  
  
"Shouldn't you be off swilling Hot Lips somewhere?"   
  
"Her name is-" Frank was cut off by Trapper's intense stare at his red eyes. "What are doing?"  
  
"Frank, were you crying?"  
  
The Major gave John a disgusted twice-over. "No one cries in This Man's Army; except, for, maybe, the women."  
  
"I saw you!"   
  
"You saw no such thing!"   
  
"What are you afraid of? What, that I'm going to spread around camp that Major Francis Marion Burns MD has feelings?"   
  
Yes, very much so. They had played all the cruel pranks possible, what else could they do than spread rumors?   
  
"Yes... no... do you even know why I was crying?"  
  
Trapper was going to say, "Aha, you admit it!" but simply decided on, "No."  
  
Frank uncharacteristically explained that he was weeping because of all the jokes and pranks were directed at him by "you and Captain Pierce". Also, that he was "stuck in this a country I've never been to, all alone, missing my kids".  
  
Burns talked for about twenty minutes and, to Trapper's surprise, he listened the whole way through and added his own tidbits of experience into the conversation.  
  
When the vent ended, John asked, "Why did you tell me all that?"  
  
Frank looked up at him. "I don't know. Why did you listen?"   
  
"I dunno, either."  
  
They sat there in silence, both trying to sort out what just happened. Had they just... have, God help me, an intimate conversation, complete with feelings?   
  
"You should be getting back to the party, Pierce is waiting."  
  
Trapper laughed at the thought; Hawkeye was making eyes at Lt. Dish earlier and was probably making eyes with her again in the supply tent. "I don't think he is."  
  
Frank looked at him queerly. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. If he is L. T. Dish will give him something to do in the mean time."  
  
Frank's eyes' grew wide. He thought that... wait... but....  
  
"And I think I'd rather stay with you."   
  
The two surgeons' eyes met and something unbelievable happened; they kissed. Not for very long and nothing too spectacular but it did happen.   
  
Frank cleared his throat, Trapper became enamored with his shoelaces. Yup, this was awkward.   
  
Trapper looked over at Frank. He knew that if he wanted something to happen, he would had to do it himself. "Come on." He grabbed Franks arm and dragged him towards their tent.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( )  
  
Lying in Trapper's peacefully in a post-coital (was that coitus?) was Frank and, of course, Trapper.   
  
"What were you looking at me strange about before?"  
  
"Oh, yes. I always thought that you and Hawkeye were doing... what we did."  
  
Trapper laughed. Trapper John Francis Xavier McIntre and Hawkeye Benjamin Franklin Piece, lovers?  
  
It continued to amuse him as he drifted of to sleep. 


	3. Margaret

Margaret Houlihan waited for a half an hour before she went out to search.   
  
The man she was expecting, Frank Burns, was usually very punctual. On many occasions, he was too punctual and would walk in on her dying her hair. However, those were... personal visits and over punctuality was excused but this was a formal military happening and for formal military happenings one must arrive *precisely* on time. Even if it was in the supply tent.   
  
Margaret marched down the MASH 4077th, passing the officer's club, which seemed to be, actually, in the most literal, hopping.   
  
"Pierce, McIntyre.... " she mumbled.  
  
The blonde opened the doors to the club, though she highly doubted it, Frank might be inside.  
  
When she entered, and her presence was acknowledged, the unrefined music was turned off and all the occupants stood at a standstill. All but Captain Pierce.   
  
"Margaret, so nice to see you! Pull up a stool!"   
  
Aggravated nonetheless, she still, perhaps in spite, sat down next to the delinquent. "Have you seen Major Burns?"   
  
The man peered at her with thin eyes, no doubtedly thinking up some wisecrack. A wisecrack, like: "I thought you were the one seeing Frank?" or similar.   
  
Instead, a smirk polluted his face. A smirk that was constantly making Margaret say: "What did you do to him?"   
  
Captain Pierce pulled back in his chair and put on a mock-innocent face. "Moi? Do something to Frank? I thought that was your territory?"  
  
Damn.   
  
"Seriously, Captain! A U.S. Army Officer goes missing and all you do is joke! He could be being taken apart by North Koreans and having his parts sold on the Black Market!"  
  
"Margaret, this is Korea not Detroit and Frank's not a German automobile! Calm down; he's probably in the latrine or something."   
  
"For a half an hour?"   
  
"With the food they're serving.... "  
  
"Come on!" Margaret said, pulling Hawkeye right out of his chair.  
  
!  
  
They searched the compound until Pierce asked, "Are you sure he didn't leave a note on his bed or something?"  
  
Margaret didn't think of looking in Frank's tent.  
  
Pierce looked at her. "Oh, please. Tell me you looked in our tent."  
  
"Look, the lights are off." The Major said pointing to the said building.   
  
"Hawkeye" rolled his eyes. "He could be... maybe... I don' know... sleeping. You stay here, I'll go check." 


	4. John

Light of the World. A Sermon of Father Mulcahy. Next Sunday in the Officer's Club. Enlisted Welcome.   
  
"Hmmmmm.... There."   
  
John tucked the hammer into his pocket and trotted off towards the Officer's Club. There seemed to be a celebration going on for Hawkeye and Trapper and although it was at another's expense John was looking forward to it.   
  
Hawkeye and Trapper threw some of the most amazing parties, complete with music, dancing, spirits, and nurses. He could not partake in the nurses' part of the evening, due to the "Father" part of his name, he did, however, take much joy in the music.   
  
"Hawkeye?" John yelled, over the noise.  
  
"Father, glad you could make it!" Hawkeye yelled back.  
  
"Uh, where's Trapper?"  
  
The young man's eyes scanned the room. "Getting more gin."  
  
"Oh... I... "  
  
"Can you excuse me?" Hawkeye pushed his glass in towards John's midsection and headed in the direction of an anonymous nurse.  
  
The chaplain walked to the juke box. He fed the machine it's due and selected Ain't That A Kick in the Head by Dean Martin.  
  
*How lucky can one guy be?   
  
I kissed her and she kissed me  
  
Like the fella once said,  
  
"Ain't that a kick in the head?"*  
  
John leaned up against the music maker nad began to keep the beat of the song by tapping his foot. In his relaxed state, he did what seemed to be the most natural thing to do- drink what was given to him.  
  
  
  
John might have opened his eyes-- it was too dark to tell. If he did he couldn't find his glasses.  
  
"Where- " he stopped himself before inflicting any more pain upon himself. His hand went out to grab the nearest object. Shelves, he must be in the Supply Tent.   
  
If John's eyes were open, they were open pretty wide right now. The 4077's Supply Tent was synonymous for... it was somewhat of a trysting place.   
  
*Did I...?* he thought.  
  
No, definetly not! At least, he hoped so.  
  
The captain put one hand to his head and called out, "Is anyone in here?"  
  
No answer.  
  
That was good. Or was it? They could've fleed after they realized who he was. Drats! How would he find out? John couldn't walked around camp asking nurses!   
  
That's it, he could ask somebody! Out of the many people at the party somebody had to see him leave! First, he would ask Hawkeye. Hawkeye knew everything about the... romantics of the camp!   
  
Getting to Hawkeye was a different situation. John grabbed to the shelfing at his left and pulled himself up. Too soon. He almost collapsed into the wheelchair behind him.  
  
Slowly but surely, John made it to the door. He exhaled and headed out. Maybe it was the fresh air, but he sure was falling down a lot more, outside.   
  
Finally, he was close enough to see Hawkeye (he lost his glasses, remember?). Hawkeye was talking with Major Houlihan about 15 yards from the Swamp. John rushed over to him.   
  
"Hawkeye!"  
  
He turned. "Sorry, Padre. I'm a little busy. What do you need?"  
  
Just as John was about to ask him, Klinger, Radar, and Henry Blake rushed over all yelling for Hawkeye. This was going to be a long night. 


	5. Henry

This installment features words that are not in the right order and words that are being misused, i.e. "surruptiously" in the place of "unsurprisingly". All of this was intentional. The protagonist was altered to Henry Blake's view. I thought it would be in character for him to do this.   
  
This technique was inspired by Bottom's speech in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  
  
  
  
  
Henry Blake sat at his desk. He peered over to the clock. 5:00. Whether it was AM or PM he did not know. And frankly, he did not give a damn, either way.  
  
Dinner or breakfast would be coming up pretty soon. They were going to be serving WWII surplus pork. It was always a little heavy on the salt but it was better than liver. Although, the liver last night... he was boring himself.  
  
Henry looked at the clock again. 5:01.   
  
"Ra- " he started. Before he could finish his Company Clerk rushed through the door, in his normal fashion. Baggy fatigues, oversized shoes flapping, hitting various cabinets, lightly.  
  
"Sir. I filed the efficiency reports- "  
  
"File the efficiency reports and tonights movie- "  
  
"- has officially been canceled."  
  
"- should be aired early."  
  
Henry looked between the both of them. Something was not right. "Did you say tonight's midnight movie is canceled?"  
  
A grin spreaded along "Radar's" face. "Yes, sir."  
  
"You can't do that! These people are bored to death! At twelve,"  
  
Noon or midnight? he wondered.  
  
The commander continued, "At twelve, I saw someone make a water balloon out of coffee and iodine! We need this movie!"  
  
"Yes, sir. But someone stole it."  
  
Henry sat down, with grief. "Ho John."  
  
The houseboy had stole before but he promised not to again. Besides what would border guards want with Bonzo Goes to the Circus? What would anybody want with Bonzo Goes to the Circus?  
  
"Oh, no, sir. He left for Maine a week ago."  
  
Henry sighed.  
  
"I think we have a real mystery in our hands."  
  
The young man looked surruptiously intrigued and took the seat across from Henry.  
  
The CO tapped his chin in thought. "Pierce- "  
  
"McIntyre. Right away, sir."  
  
  
  
Wrist back and flick and return. Twenty-seven paper wads caught and he wasn't even using Tippy.  
  
Henry looked at the clock. 5:23.   
  
He propped his feet up upon his desk and pushed back as to where the neck of the chair was leaning against the wall behind it. He rocked back slowly. This was comfortable... hmmm....  
  
"Colonel Blake!"  
  
Said name woke up and frantically tried to put himself back together. The office furniture didn't agree with him. His legs (Henry's not the chair's) left the desk too early and the chair and Henry's weight was applied to the wall. The neck of the chair slid down the wall, bringing the chair's content with it. When the neck reached the floor the wheel popped up, knocking Henry, violently, to the floor.   
  
  
  
Henry's eyes opened. He blinked them, distrusting to the light.  
  
"Colonel Blake, are you okay?" a hushed, excitable voice enquired. "I... uh... couldn't find Captains Pierce and McIntyre."  
  
That was the least of the Flat lander's's concerns. He felt around him. Smooth, cool, barely touched. It was transparent to him that he was lying his desk. "Radar?"  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Did you move me up here?" He grabbed at his sweater, damn was it cold in Korea.  
  
"Uh, Igor helped. Are you okay?"  
  
"Daisy. Just help me to my tent."  
  
  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'm fine." Radar lowered Henry onto his cot. Henry's not Radar's. "I'm just going to catch forty winks."  
  
"You might want to catch fifdy or sixdy; you fell pretty hard."  
  
"I'll take that into mind."   
  
Henry lied down and pulled up his covers.  
  
"Are you- "  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
The clerk scooted out of the tent and closed the door, not to disturb his now sleeping commander.  
  
  
  
11:46. Three minutes later than last time. Just like the time before that. And the time before that. And the time.... He had made it a general routine in these last thirty-six minutes. Just like that, every three minutes, like clockwork. In fact, it was clockwork.   
  
See, thirty-six minutes ago Henry was awoken by cold, clammy, shakes and belly pain. And for thirty-six minutes he laid in that cot, too afraid to get up, in fear of blacking out again.  
  
He rocked back and forth to orchestrate a friction that would keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach. Unfortunately... he lost it.  
  
Henry supposedly needed a doctor and Mobile Army Surgical Hospital was a good place to find one.  
  
Gathering all of his courage he stumbled out of his tent. To Post-Op or the Swamp. Not Post-Op; only nurses at this hour. To the Swamp.  
  
The Swamp was half-way across the compound but it held the only other doctors in the MASH besides himself. Them being Pierce and McIntyre.   
  
Holding his gut, Henry made his way to the doctors' tent. By the door, the camp's chaplain, the head nurse, and Pierce seemed to be fighting over something.   
  
Too ill to care for manners he yelled out Pierce's nickname, with as much power as he could, "Hawkeye!"  
  
No answer. Henry looked around. The camp's cross dresser and the Company Clerk were vexing for "Hawkeye's" attention, as well. Oh.... 


End file.
